


birds

by kirargent



Category: Shadowhunter Chronicles - All Media Types, Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: Angst, Animal Death, Blood, Childhood Trauma, Episode: s01e08 Bad Blood, M/M, Vampire Turning, Vampires
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-03
Updated: 2016-03-03
Packaged: 2018-05-24 11:13:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 593
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6151839
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kirargent/pseuds/kirargent
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Raphael holds up a stake and a shovel, one in each hand, <i>pick one</i>, <i>door one or door two?</i>, like it's not Simon's life (non-life?) on the line. Clary picks shovel, and then her body picks tears and implosion, and Jace digs the grave himself.</p>
            </blockquote>





	birds

**Author's Note:**

> spoilers for s1e8 Bad Blood!
> 
> check the end notes for a little more info on the violence tags if you're concerned
> 
> additionally: i didn't tag for character death bcs..... vampires? but that does def come up even tho the death is temporary

 

 _Simon's little problem_. That's what Jace had called it. He'd told Clary not to worry about Simon's _little problem_ , and now Simon is _dead_ , and Jace can't stop seeing dead birds, dead birds, tawny falcon feathers stiff and cracked, a neck at the wrong angle, eyes glassy.

Simon's eyelids have been closed; his neck isn't at a sickening angle. Jace can see blood on the skin of his throat though, and that's nearly as awful.

 

 

Clary almost doesn't bring him back.

Jace thinks _do it_ and Jace thinks _leave him dead_ and Jace thinks _thank God it's her call and not mine_.

Raphael's smirk doesn't suffer in the cruelty of this day: It's firmly in place every time Jace looks, bored eyebrows raised.

Raphael must care at least a little, Jace thinks, or he wouldn't have brought the mundane here at all.

Then again, maybe he was just protecting his own skin from the Shadowhunters.

 _Doesn't matter_ , Jace thinks. Simon's here, and he's dead, and Clary has to _decide_ , and things might be a hell of a lot easier if she would just leave him dead.

 

 

Clary's motions have a panicked energy as she buzzes around Simon's bedroom, a terrified fly with one wing cut off. Her hands shake violently as she digs a black cloth bag patterned with a Star of David from his closet.

Jace grabs her hands to still them. The shaking is fucking with his already-zapped nerves.

He tells her a story.

The one about the bird.

He can't stop seeing dead birds, dead birds, talons no longer deadly, feet limp, body lifeless.

It doesn't make Clary feel any better.

Jace, either.

 

 

Raphael holds up a stake and a shovel, one in each hand, _pick one_ , _door one or door two?_ , like it's not Simon's life (non-life?) on the line. Clary picks shovel, and then her body picks tears and implosion, and Jace digs the grave himself.

Clary stands by the vampire.

Simon will soon be “the vampire.”

Jace will have to stop calling him “mundane.”

Jace thinks, _I can't believe she's doing this_ and _of course she's doing this_ and _what if Simon hates us for bringing him back?_

 

 

Clary says, “Love makes you stronger.”

Jace thinks, _I wish I could believe that_.

 

 

The Earth shakes. Clary shakes even more violently.

Jace holds her.

Jace thinks, _what are we doing?_

Jace can't stop seeing dead birds, blood in brown-gold feathers, tiny broken bones.

 

 

Raphael pulls plastic bags of blood from his pockets like the creepy motherfucker that he is, tossing them to a wild-eyed Simon and smiling like this is all just his cup of tea.

Simon rips into the blood bags like he's never eaten before and may never eat again. He drinks fast, way too fast. More than half of the thick dark liquid spills down his chin, throat, chest.

Raphael is still smiling.

Jace thinks _gross_ and _what have we done?_ and _could he forgive me?_ And then: _there's no way that's kosher._

 

 

There is so much blood, and then Simon's eyes begin to clear, though the rest of him remains coated in dirt.

Understanding dawns, and it's awful.

It's so awful.

Simon yells that he's repulsive, yells at Clary, and Jace thinks _you're not_ and _maybe I am_ and _how's that love working for you, Clary?_

 

 

Simon runs.

Simon runs, and Jace sees dead birds, so many dead birds, their eyes a lifeless, staring black, feathers snapped and crooked, necks horribly bent.

 

 

 

Jace thinks _come back_ and _let me help_ and _stupid fucking Simon_.

 

**Author's Note:**

> violence in this fic: doesn't really stray from canon, but discusses both simon's turning and repeatedly discusses jace's childhood trauma with the bird. nothing super duper graphic, but. dead animals for sure. mentioned over and over. pls be safe<3
> 
>  
> 
> [come say hi](http://lesbianlightwood.tumblr.com)


End file.
